


The Long Way Around

by RedRowan



Series: Stars and Horns [11]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, F/M, Female Matt Murdock, Past Matt Murdock/Elektra Natchios, Post-Black Panther (2018), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pre-Defenders, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 05:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14846930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRowan/pseuds/RedRowan
Summary: Mattie and Steve are on their way to Wakanda to see a newly-awakened Bucky Barnes when they are interrupted by a familiar face and an old battle.





	The Long Way Around

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, look! We're back! This series has been on hiatus since last year, as I was waiting to see how Defenders and Infinity War shook out (and boy, how did they shake out!). This story is pretty much a prologue to the longer Defenders fic I've got in the pipeline, but I wanted it to go up on its own.

They find Mattie and Steve in Rio. The only warning Mattie has is the whisper of arrows in the air, and she’s swinging the chair out from under her, hearing the thunk of metal against wood as an arrow strikes. Steve throws a plate as if it were the Captain America shield, blocking the other, and they’re running after their attackers as the rest of the beach bar erupts in screams. Mattie leaps and flings herself upwards, scaling the wall across the street with Steve on her heels, cartwheeling to avoid more arrows. They close the gap and the archer draws a pair of daggers, but he’s no match for the two of them. He trips as he falls backwards from a kick from Steve, and goes over the edge of the roof, hitting the concrete with a sickening crunch. There’s a small crowd gathered below.

“They’ve got phones,” Steve says.

“Let’s get out of here,” Mattie says.

They’re on the first flight out, not caring where it’s headed. From the time they leave the apartment to the plane taking off, Mattie is on high alert, trying to scan 360 degrees at once, listening for heartbeats that sound…off.

“Why are the Hand after us?” Steve says, in the airport, typing on his laptop.

“They’re not exactly my biggest fans,” Mattie says. She hears metal against metal and her whole body tenses, but it’s only a line cook.

“But why now?”

“Maybe they’ve been trying to track us down.”

It’s only an hour to Sao Paulo. They find a hotel for the night, before moving on in the morning to the Airbnb Steve found them. Steve emails Natasha to ask if there’s been anything unusual that might be related to the Hand.

And then nothing. 

For three days, it’s peaceful. No attacks, no missions. It’s maddening.

The idyllic calm comes to an end when a woman brushes against Mattie in the street. She keeps walking, not even apologizing, despite the fact that she dropped something hard and cool into Mattie’s pocket.  


Mattie ducks into an alley, and pulls it out: a round disc that fits in her palm. She taps it, but she knows that it will absorb any sound. Vibranium.

Wakandan.

It’s not surprising. Over the past few months, she and Steve (and Natasha and Sam, when they were together) have occasionally helped T’Challa’s agents in their missions. In return, T’Challa has provided them with some of the intelligence his spies have gathered. As well as updates on Bucky’s condition as he recovers under Princess Shuri’s care.

Mattie pulls out her phone and dictates a text to Steve.

“Got another present from the cat,” she says. “Need you to come and help me clean it up.”

You can never be too careful.

Steve is waiting for her when she gets back to the Airbnb, pacing.

“They say anything?” he says.

“No. Just dropped it in my pocket.” She holds out the disc, and Steve swipes his finger over it, activating it. Mattie can feel the shape of the nanites as they form a miniature bust of the Wakandan princess.

“Hello, Mr Rogers, Miss Murdock,” Shuri’s voice starts. She giggles a little, the way she always does when she addresses Steve as “Mr Rogers.” “I have very good news. Sergeant Barnes has completed the cryonic stage of his recovery.” Steve’s heart beats faster, and Mattie presses herself against his side. He wraps his arm around her shoulders. “We were able to map his brain patterns, and run an algorithm that -“ Shuri clears her throat, and audibly takes a deep breath. “I would be happy to give you a full account of the procedures we used when we are able to speak in person,” she continues, much more slowly and formally than before. “We will be waking Sergeant Barnes shortly, and transferring him to a…quieter place, where he can rest. My brother will be in Vienna next week, and he would like to extend an invitation for you to come back to Wakanda with him so you can join your friend.” The bust dissolves back into the disc.

“There are directions to where T’Challa will be staying,” Steve says, sounding a little breathless. “I…”

Mattie leans up and kisses his cheek. “I know,” she says.

They don’t talk much about Bucky as they make their way to Vienna. It’s as if Steve is afraid mentioning him will jinx the trip and drag Bucky away from him yet again. Steve tries to sleep (Mattie never can, on planes), eventually gives up, so he picks a shitty movie from the in-flight entertainment system and describes it to Mattie. He’s much funnier than the movie. After that, it’s a game to try to find the worst movie on the list, and Steve finds some horrible, misogynistic “romantic comedy” that elicits horrified laughter from both of them.

“Why did we _watch_ that?” Mattie says, once it’s over.

“So we can complain about it later?” Steve says.

They change planes in Frankfurt, expertly navigating passport inspection and security checks. Mattie almost makes a joke about Steve and German airports, but that joke got old the third time they flew through Frankfurt.

On to Vienna, and the hotel where T’Challa is staying. Steve makes an impressed sound.

“Swanky,” he says.

The hotel lobby _is_ swanky, Mattie can tell, with plush carpets and huge mirrors, and crystals on the chandeliers that tinkle gently above her. She imagines that she and Steve look out of place here, grubby and tired from the flight, duffel bags slung over their shoulders. But a woman’s voice calls out “Brett! Peyton!” and they turn at the sound of their aliases.

The word that always springs to Mattie’s mind whenever she meets Nakia is “serpentine.” She moves effortlessly through a crowd, never exactly where you expect her to be, and faster than you imagine. Mattie doesn’t know what Nakia is like as a fighter, but she expects “dangerous” to be the best description.

Nakia, for her part, is completely at ease as she guides Mattie and Steve into the elevator, asking politely about their flight, until they reach the penthouse.

“Highness,” Steve says, greeting T’Challa as he rises from the couch.

“Mr Rogers. Miss Murdock.”

They exchange pleasantries for a bit before T’Challa offers to put in a call to Shuri and Bucky. Steve’s heart speeds up as he says “Yes!” before catching himself.

“I’m sorry. Thank you, I would very much like that,” he says.

Mattie just smiles as she holds Steve’s hand.

T’Challa places the vibranium disc on the coffee table, and the nanites swirl above it.

“Mr Rogers!” Shuri says, her voice only slightly distorted to Mattie’s ears. “And Miss Murdock, I am glad to see you well.”

“You as well, Highness,” Steve says. “I…I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for Bucky -“

“That is not necessary, Mr Rogers. I am very happy we were able to help.” The nanites shift as the princess moves on her end of the call. “But I don’t believe I am the one you wish to speak to.”

“Highness, I -“ Steve tries to protest, but the form of the princess is gone, and the nanites re-form.

“Hey, pal,” Bucky says.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve says, and Mattie can smell the saline in his eyes. “I hear they got you all fixed up.”

“Yeah, Shuri, she - she’s something, all right.”

The microphone in Wakanda catches the sound of Shuri’s laugh.

“That’s…” Steve’s voice drifts off.

“That you, Mattie?” Bucky says.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Mattie says. “Did Shuri mention that we’re going to be coming back with T’Challa?”

“Yeah. It’ll be good to see you two.” Bucky sounded tired, his voice soft.

“Real good,” Steve said. “How’s Wakanda?”

“Oh, you know. Pretty girls, nice scenery, can’t even figure out how to open some of the doors.”

“It’s very simple!” Shuri’s voice shouted from the background.

“You’ll have to show us around,” Steve says.

“Sure.”

“We’ll see you soon.”

“Well, he will,” Mattie says.

“Yeah. Stay safe, Stevie. Mattie.”

The call ends, and the nanites dissolve.

There is a guest room in the penthouse suite, which T’Challa says is theirs. They drop their bags there, and Mattie is about to suggest visiting a few of Vienna’s sights when Steve kisses her hard, and backs her onto the bed.

So…no sightseeing.

They drag themselves out of bed to have dinner with T’Challa, Nakia, and General Okoye in the penthouse suite. The conversation turns to each of the women’s training, and Okoye describes the Wakandan martial arts that all three of the Wakandans present learned.

“I would be very interested in learning more about that,” Mattie says. “I learned a mix of Asian martial arts, and I wonder how similar the principles are.”

There’s a pause.

“She’s smiling,” Steve says. “It’s a little intimidating.”

“With his Highness’ permission, would you be open to a match, Miss Murdock?” Okoye says.

“What are the stakes?” Mattie says.

“Satisfaction. And a lesson. The winner will host the loser in a training session when we return to Wakanda.”

Mattie grins. “I accept the terms. Highness?”

“I do not see a reason to refuse,” T’Challa says. “I am also very curious as to the outcome.”

“Where would this match take place?” Mattie says.

“The roof is empty most of the time,” Okoye says.

“Then we have a date, General,” Mattie says.

After dinner, they all make their way to the roof, and the match begins. Okoye is a powerful fighter, there is no doubt of that. She reminds Mattie a little of sparring with Elektra, without the sexual tension, but even more of Frank Castle: all strength and solidity. But Okoye has none of Frank’s vicious ingenuity, which might speak well of her character, but gives Mattie an opening in the fight. Mattie manages, with some effort, to pin the general, who yields without bitterness.

In some respects, all soldiers are the same.

Mattie reaches down and Okoye takes her hand. She lifts the other woman to her feet.

“She’s got me with that move more than once,” Steve says to T’Challa.

“And yet, you still fall for it,” Mattie says. And because she’s a little flushed from the fight, she adds, “I don’t suppose the king would be interested in having a go?”

T’Challa laughs, and Mattie goes a little gooey on the inside.

“I would, indeed, Miss Murdock,” he says. “Perhaps you would be interested in visiting the palace gymnasium when we reach Wakanda?”

“I’d be delighted, Highness,” she says.

“And you should talk to Shuri about weapons,” Okoye says, her head nodding as if she were looking over Mattie from head to toe. 

“I have weapons.”

“She can make you better ones.”

From the noises Nakia and T’Challa are making, this is true.

“I’d be honored,” Mattie says.

The evening ends with Wakandan palm wine, and T’Challa and Nakia admitting what T’Challa’s speech to the United Nations the next day will contain.

“You’re sure about this?” Steve says.

“This has been many months in the planning,” T’Challa says. “I have never been more sure of the right path than in this case.”

Steve’s hand brushes Mattie’s in the way that they’ve used a thousand times before to communicate silently.

“And how do your people feel about this?” Mattie says. “If I recall correctly, they weren’t happy about you even telling _us_ the truth about your country.”

“It has taken some time,” T’Challa admits, “but we are ready to meet the world. Together.”

“And get a Starbucks,” Okoye says.

“Their coffee is terrible,” Nakia says, in a tone that implies this conversation had been repeated many times.

“I like their pumpkin spice latte,”’ Okoye says in a tone that brooks no dispute.

Mattie, because she’s a little drunk, giggles. T’Challa sighs.

“I will have someone _talk_ to their CEO,” he says, long-suffering.

“We could open up a McDonald’s too,” Nakia says sarcastically. “Maybe get a Wal-mart.”

“Let’s not go mad,” T’Challa says.

“No offense, Captain,” Nakia says.

“It’s just Steve, ma’am,” Steve says. “And none taken.”

Later, lying in bed, Mattie brings up the conversation with Steve.

“It’ll make things harder for us,” Steve says. “If they open up the country, there won’t be anywhere for us to hide.”

_There won’t be anywhere for Bucky to hide_ hangs there unspoken.

“Maybe we don’t need to hide,” Mattie says. “Not in Wakanda, anyway.”

“You don’t think Ross and the rest will come after us?”

“I think that I’d put my money on Okoye over Ross any day.”

Steve laughs, more relaxed than he’s been in weeks…months, maybe. She pulls him on top of her, and she’s about to get his shirt off when she hears the unmistakable sound of a fight happening in the hall. With a groan, she realizes that she recognizes the voice of one of the fighters.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…” she grumbles as she pulls on some clothes.

She passes a confused Nakia in the middle of the suite, who has T’Challa on her heels as he pulls on a shirt. Okoye, emerging from another bedroom, takes up her post at T’Challa’s side.

“I’m sorry about this, Highness,” Mattie says as she pulls open the suite door.

T’Challa’s two Dora Milaje bodyguards have Elektra backed against the wall, trying to pin her with their spears. Elektra, for her part, has her sai out, and catches a spear in her left hand’s prongs as she kicks the other Dora Milaje in the chest.

“You couldn’t have called?” Mattie says, standing in the doorway and crossing her arms.

“You left your phone in New York,” Elektra says.

“You know this woman?” Okoye says.

“She’s Mattie’s ex,” Steve says, bringing up the rear.

“Hello, Steven,” Elektra calls.

“Is she dangerous?” Nakia says.

“Yes,” Mattie says, and Steve says at the same time, “Very.”

“‘Lektra, what are you doing here?” Mattie says, as one of the Dora Milaje is thrown across the hall into the wall.

“I needed to talk to you,” Elektra says. Mattie doesn’t think she’s lying, but that’s never counted for much.

“I don’t think she’s a threat to his Highness,” Mattie says, turning her head to speak to Okoye.

There is a pause, then T’Challa nods, and Okoye barks an order in Xhosa. The Dora Milaje disengage from the fight, but keep their spears at the ready.

“Hmm,” is all the reaction Elektra gives. Instead, she steps up to Mattie, and runs a hand over Mattie’s hair. “Hello, Matilda,” she purrs.

“Hi. You do know this is the King of Wakanda’s suite?” Mattie says.

“Evidently. Your Majesty.” Elektra nods at T’Challa.

“Highness, may I present Elektra Natchios?” Mattie says dryly. “Who will not attack your bodyguards again.”

“Miss Natchios,” T’Challa says coldly.

“I’ve heard of you,” Nakia says. “The Morocco job?”

Elektra tilts her head.

“One of my more dramatic achievements,” is all she says.

Mattie sighs.

“If you’ll excuse us?” she says, stepping forward to grab Elektra’s arm. She drags Elektra down the hall to the elevator. Once they’re inside, Elektra stretches, her sai secreted somewhere on her person. “Resurrection seems to be agreeing with you.”

“It has its benefits,” Elektra says. She leans agains the mirrored wall. “Never thought I’d see you out of New York.”

“You told me - plenty of sexy places to hide.”

“And how is that working out for you?”

Mattie hesitates. She never was able to lie to Elektra.

“I miss New York,” she admits. “But the rest of the world isn’t so bad.”

The bell rings as they elevator reaches the lobby. Mattie leads the way toward the smell of alcohol, and they snag a table in the corner of the lobby bar. Elektra orders a Macallan and a mezcal without asking Mattie.

“How’s Stick?” Mattie says as the server leaves them.

“Exactly as you’d expect,” Elektra says. “It hasn’t been an easy few months.”

_Ah. Here we go._

“What happened?” Mattie says.

“The Iron Fist returned to New York, for one.”

“And? You don’t have to fight him, do you?”

“Not currently.” Elektra breaks off as the server arrives with their drinks. Mattie takes a sip, letting the scent fill her nose. “But the Iron Fist is meant to be the defender of K’un-Lun. If he’s not there, the city is vulnerable.”

“Is that why you’re here? You want me to go to K’un-Lun?”

“No.” Elektra takes a sip. “Something is in motion, with the Hand. The Fingers of the Hand have all moved to New York -“

“The Fingers?”

“The Hand’s leaders. Alexandra, Bakuto, Sowande, Gao -“

“Gao? Gao was _against_ the Hand.”

Elektra waved a hand. “They’ve been at each other’s throats for centuries. Mostly playing their own little games. But now, they are all together, and not to kill each other.” Elektra’s nail tapped against her glass. “Do you remember what I told you?”

“You told me a lot of things. Many of which weren’t true.”

“I told you the Hand would destroy your city. Now, with all five of them together, and the Iron Fist’s connections there? It’s only a matter of time.”

“Is that what Stick says?”

She heard Elektra slow her breath. “Yes. I agree with him.”

Mattie takes a drink, for want of anything to say. Elektra’s heartbeat is strange, a result of her death and resurrection, but it hasn’t faltered.

“They tried to take us out,” she says. “In Rio.”

And there, just for a second, Elektra’s heartbeat quickens.

“When was this?” Elektra says, and she can’t hide the slight tremor in her voice.

“A…week and a half ago?”

Elektra mutters something in Greek that Mattie is sure is unladylike.

“They’ll keep coming,” she says in English. “You two are good at hiding, but -“

“If you could find us, so can they.”

“Yes. And the world knows who Daredevil is. Now the Hand does, too.”

Mattie hears her own heart speed up.

“Foggy.”

“Not yet. But there is a risk.”

_I need to call Jessica._

“If I go with you,” Mattie says, “will it end this?”

“I can’t promise you that. But whatever they’re planning, whatever has brought the five Fingers together in New York, we can stop that.”

“You said five. Who’s the fifth?”

Elektra counts off her fingers. “Murakami. He was the one holding Nobu’s leash.”

Mattie’s lip curls.

“I killed him,” she says. “Nobu. After…”

“After he killed me. You can say it.”

“I threw him off the roof.”

“You didn’t kill him,” Elektra says.

Mattie sits upright. “Is he - he came back?”

“Oh, no. Stick took his head off after you threw him off the roof. That’s the only way to deal with the arseholes.”

“Oh.”

“But he was dead. For a few minutes.”

“You’re patronizing me.”

Elektra shrugs and drains her glass. “We have a plane leaving in the morning. One of the Chaste in Phnom Penh has made contact with the Iron Fist, and he’s our best chance at stopping the Hand.”

“I…I can’t go without talking to Steve first.”

Elektra seems to hesitate, then she nods.

“I’ll be here at six,” is all she says. “You can tell me then if you’re coming.”

“Don’t come up to the suite. I’m pretty sure the Dora Milaje will kill you just on principle.”

“They’re welcome to try.” Elektra stands and leans over to kiss Mattie’s cheek. “I like your new hair, by the way.” And then she’s gone.

Back upstairs, as Mattie reaches the suite door, one of the Dora Milaje holds out her hand, touching Mattie’s shoulder.

“Your friend,” the woman says.

“Not really my friend,” Mattie says. “It’s complicated.”

“If she threatens the King again, we will not hesitate.”

“I know. So does she.” It’s the best Mattie can do. The Dora Milaje opens the door for her. “Thank you.”

“Good night, Miss Murdock.”

Inside the suite, no-one is asleep, but everyone has retreated to their respective bedrooms. No-one emerges to challenge her as she makes her way to the guest room. Steve is sitting on the bed, his laptop open, but he closes it when Mattie comes in. She slides onto the bed next to him.

“It’s the Hand, isn’t it?” he says.

“The Chaste think something big is about to go down in New York. Elektra wants me to go to Cambodia with her - I’m not really clear what that has to do with it, something about the Iron Fist?”

“Do you believe her?”

“Yeah. I do.” Mattie brings one knee up, wrapping her arms around it. “I have to go, Steve. I’ve fought too hard for too long to let them hurt my city.” And she’s lost too much to them.

“I know.” And he does, he understands. “When?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“OK. I think T’Challa’s still awake, I’ll let him know we’ll get to Wakanda on our own -“

Of course. Of course Steve would assume he has to help her instead of seeing Bucky.

Mattie puts her hand on his arm.

“Steve. No. You need to go to Wakanda.”

“If it’s so bad that Elektra’s hunted you down -“

“Then it’s bad enough that she needs me. You go see Bucky, and I’ll come to you.” She puts her hand against his cheek. “You fight your battles, and I’ll fight mine.”

“This is _our_ battle.”

She shakes her head. “Bucky needs you. New York needs me.” She kisses him. “There are plenty of people there who can help.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. Besides, I’m pretty sure anything that involves putting you and Stick in the same room is going to end in disaster.”

“I do hate that man.”

“I know you do.”

He holds her tight.

“How long do we have?” he says.

“Until six.”

It’s only a few hours. Steve helps her pack before pulling her clothes off and showing her how much he’ll miss her. She manages to doze off for an hour or so before Steve shakes her awake, and she kisses him and tells him to say hello to Bucky for her.

The hotel is quiet as she slips through. Elektra is outside, at the wheel of a convertible that even _sounds_ expensive, and Mattie tosses her bag into the back seat before climbing in.

“How long is this going to take?” Mattie says as they pull away from the hotel.

“Not long,” Elektra says. “New York is about to explode. We just need to find the Iron Fist and get there before it does.”

Mattie nods.

“I have some friends who can help,” she says.

Elektra changes gears, and the car roars ahead.

“You know what Stick says about friends,” she says.

“Fuck Stick,” Mattie says. “Do you want to play by his rules, or do you want to win?”

“You know the answer to that.” Mattie can hear Elektra’s grin.

“Good. Because I’m not letting the Hand have my city.”

An hour later, Elektra screeches to a halt on the tarmac of a private airport. There’s only one plane in the hangar, and one old man waiting for them.

“Stick,” she says.

“Mattie,” he says. “Welcome home, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, everyone!


End file.
